


restart.

by prosodiical



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other, POV Second Person, Post-Pacifist Route, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd won.</p><p>But then - why couldn't you leave?</p><p>(Frisk lives, and repeats, and lives again. There must be a way out - they just need to stay determined.)</p><p>Edit: Now abandoned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for (temporary) suicide and canon past suicide, suicidal ideation, (temporary) canon character death, mild panic attacks and self-harm, mentions of child neglect/etc. and spoilers for all the endings.
> 
> Frisk (and Chara) are both gender neutral - let me know if I mess up any pronouns!
> 
> This idea came about because the game is so self-referential, but once you've gotten the true pacifist ending, you can't play on. So I thought, what if Frisk couldn't, either?

In the end, you'd won. 

In the end, you'd saved (almost) everyone, broken the barrier, made every one of your new friends happy as they started into a new life. Toriel lingered there on the edge of the human world the longest, her hand on your shoulder, but your heart firmed with a quiet resolve as you told her, "No, I'll be fine. I have things to do."

"Oh," she said, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at her face. _Serves her right_ , something inside of you thought, vicious but for the pain and longing echoed in your heart, and she dropped her hand and slowly, walked off. You ached to call her back, the best mother you'd ever known, but you knew already that wasn't the way the world worked. 

So you had broken your ties, freed your bonds, and your soul was full of determination - then, you thought, _why can't I go?_

Because you couldn't. You could sit all the way to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the human township you'd come from below, watching the sun sink over the horizon. You could walk all the way back to the final room in the palace, where you'd faced Asgore and Asriel and lost a small part of yourself in holding back tears, and you were certain you could walk even further back than that. But forward; forward was blocked, something beyond you keeping you within a dozen steps. Every time you tried, you were stuck: unable to move even an inch further, except back exactly the way you came. It didn't matter how you approached it, steps sliding along or your hands splayed out in front of you - you were always just... stopped.

If you'd won, you wondered, then why was this happening? You retreated a half-dozen steps and sat down in the dirt, from here able to see the lights turn on as the sun grew low. You sat there and kicked your legs against the edge of the cliff, your hands pebbled with dirt and stones as you leaned back on them and stared up at the dawning night sky. It was a long way down from here. _It wouldn't be hard, just to lean a little further forward_.

So you did - and fell.

Your first thought was not, _I don't want to die_. Instead you thought about how this felt like you'd done it before, maybe once or a million times, tumbling down and down and down. There would be no patch of flowers to break your fall here, but part of you just wanted to - no. Stay determined, Frisk.

Your last save had been after all the battles, after all the pain and tears. You opened your eyes and picked yourself up from the floor, stumbling toward the final hallway before the barrier waiting for you to open. Toriel was there, smiling at a joke of Sans's as she tapped at her phone, and you checked your own messages; there was a long list of messages too far for you to scroll through, but it made you smile. You walked up to her, tugged on her sleeve; Toriel's eyes brightened as she enfolded you in a hug, something warm and lost settling in the pit of your stomach as you knew you never wanted to leave.

"We're waiting for you," she said, once she let you go; she held onto your hand, soft fur against your skin, as you stared up at her. "Whenever you're ready."

You looked at Sans, then. "the barrier, kiddo," he reminded you, and you looked down the dark hallway to where you knew everything would end. You knew with the way your breath stuttered in your chest that the same thing would happen all over again, you stuck on the edge of that cliff, a step away from falling into oblivion. It made your heart pound in your chest, the fear and adrenaline catching up to you, the weight of the human and monster worlds hovering over your head and you released Toriel's hand, took a few steps back.

"I - I have," you started to say, and Toriel's expression changed to outright worry, and you backed away a little more. "I'm sorry," you said, quickly, and ran.

You could hear your other friends as you dashed through the castle, each door closing behind you muffling Papyrus's earnest questions, Undyne's bemused response. Their voices echoed in your head long after you'd left earshot but it kept you running, foot after foot, your shoes slipping on the smooth paved halls. It wasn't until you were enclosed in the soft hum of the elevator's magic that you took the chance to breathe. Your head between your knees and the comforting closeness of the metal walls helped you catch your breath, helped you stay there as the elevator slowly sunk into the Underground and your heartbeat slowed to normal.

The problem was, you didn't know where to go from here. You couldn't go forward, to that hallway where everyone was waiting, to the barrier and the end of your world beyond; so, you decided, you might as well head back to the start of it all.

It was a long, tiring trek through Hotland to get to the boat to take you back to Snowdin, and once you were there, shivering in your shirt, all you wanted was to go back. You wandered around the town for a while, checking everywhere for something you might have missed as your steps grew heavy, buying a cinnamon bun, still warm, to nibble on and keep you going as you walked. Grillby's was still full, there were monsters in the library and the inn, but they had nothing but praise that made you feel guilty all over again. Papyrus and Sans's house was empty but warm, and you ended up falling on their sofa, curling up and dropping off as soon as your head hit the cushions.

Your dreams were odd, disjointed. You woke feeling chilled despite the warmth of the house, still all alone. The spaghetti in the fridge was odd, charred and slimy when you tried to take a bite, and you put it back, hoping no one would notice. _No one is coming back_. You tried not to think of it.

Past Snowdin was the door to the Ruins, this time cracked open. You stepped through and into Toriel's house, the smell of pie still lingering in the air. The house looked precisely like you remembered it: your bed freshly made, a book of snail trivia on the table beside Toriel's chair, and you scrambled up into it, pushing the rocking mechanism back and forth as you puzzled your way through the unfamiliar words. You stayed there for a while: when you were hungry, you ate a piece of pie, your hands clenched too-tight around a kitchen knife, and when you were tired you went to your room, laid your head down on the pillow, and hoped not to dream. You thought you could stay here, but for the way the house was silent and empty, but for the way the pie on the counter was dwindling down to crumbs, but for the essential missing piece. Perhaps if you waited just a bit longer...

_No one is coming back._

You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, barely able to meet your own eyes in the mirror. It was you, small and cold and alone, and you remembered living like this, day after day after day. "No," you said, half to yourself, and pulled together your determination to leave. 

The rest of the Ruins was quiet, your footsteps echoing down long caverns, rustling as you stepped through piles of leaves. It wasn't long before you came to the start, right where you had fallen down, and you breath caught in your throat.

Asriel looked up. "Frisk," he said, and you stared at him like he was a mirage, feeling a terrible hatred and longing welling in your chest as much as you couldn't imagine why. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

You'd been biting your lip because you weren't the sort of person who cried, worrying it down to the cracked dry skin and the taste of iron on your tongue. You were doing it again when you looked at him and shook your head.

Asriel started to reach out, but his hesitation made him drop his paw to his side; you took it as invitation anyway, reaching out and clasping it between your hands. His fur was soft - but, you thought, a little cold. "You shouldn't," he said, and you tugged him down to sit on the edge of the patch of flowers, so he knew you weren't going to leave.

You sat there, together, for a while. You ate a cold hotdog and gave him one, too; he got ketchup on his paws and you laughed as he tried to lick it all off. Eventually he began talking: a tale you half-remembered like it'd been told to you before, a long time ago. It wasn't quite the same, you thought, not quite - 

You looked away and could feel your fists clench though you didn't know why, blunt fingernails digging into the palms of your hands until the grooves went numb. "You can't help me anymore," Asriel said, and you met his gaze. He looked sad.

"I'll stay," you said, and he shook his head.

"Please," he said, "leave me here." He looked down at the flowers, the golden yellow petals, some slightly crushed from where you had fallen. "I - I can't."

You wanted to say, _but then where will I go?_ but you couldn't force the words out in the face of his expression, the pleading, lost look in his eyes. You stood up instead, and the relief, the happiness in his smile was like a hit to your soul. You wanted to hate him - you wanted to hug him and never let go - you wanted to - you wanted -

_I'm. I'm sorry._

You closed your eyes tight. There was nothing for you here. No one was coming back.

Then you'd have to go back for them. You mustered your determination and -


	2. Chapter 2

You spent a long while at Toriel's house, this time around.

You'd stuttered over Flowey's name when you first saw him again. The guilt pulled at your chest and you choked on keeping yourself from saying what you knew, but in the end you barely managed a syllable before he interrupted, attacked. It wasn't worthwhile trying to find Asriel in him, you could almost hear him telling you, and while you knew it was true it didn't make anything better.

Nothing made anything better.

Toriel tried, it was true. After a few days of pie she cooked you other things, too: dishes that had oddly large amounts of snails in them that you couldn't quite stomach, butterscotch and cinnamon cake and muffins and tarts. Her lessons were on reading and writing and numbers, well-explained and challenging without being too hard, and she told you jokes from a book and monster bedtime stories when she tucked you in at night. Soon, it became habit for you to call her Mom, to be able to take her welcoming affection without the pain in your heart that made you want to push her away, to - almost - be her child.

(Soon, you needed new clothes for the ones you'd outgrown, needed a haircut to stop it getting too long. Toriel dressed you in hand-me-downs in greens and golds and cut your hair with a steady, practiced hand and when you looked in the mirror, you felt - strange, like you were not quite yourself. 

_You felt more like you than you ever had before._

No. That wasn't right.

She never asked you for your name.)

But sometimes you couldn't sleep after Toriel had dulled the fire to embers and went to bed, and you wandered around the house in the darkness: to the kitchen, where your hands ached for a knife but Toriel had locked them all away, to the closed door at the end of the long corridor where you knew the rest of the monster world was waiting. You'd lean your head against the door, sealed with magic, and wonder if you should go. This life wasn't yours. Asriel's or Chara's, maybe, but you were just lonely, determined Frisk.

"I'm sorry," you told the door one night, for lack of being able to tell anyone who mattered. 

"that's not how it goes," the door said back, and you startled; your hand went for the toy knife in your pocket before you could stop yourself. You swallowed, stared at the door, and then remembered who was most likely on the other side. "this one's better: knock, knock."

"Who's there?" you managed, after a moment.

"boo."

"Boo who?"

"don't cry, it's just a joke," Sans said, and you laughed a bit despite yourself. "hey. everything okay there?"

Had Toriel been coming by lately? You knew that whenever you were awake, she tried to avoid this place: thinking, perhaps, that if you knew there was an exit you would want to leave. "It's," you said, but you couldn't bring yourself to say what you wanted. "Toriel's happy."

"hm. and you?"

"Hey," you said, instead. "Knock, knock."

"who's there?"

"Lettuce."

"lettuce who?"

"Lett-uce in," you said, and your voice shook a little. "It's cold out here."

"that's a lazy-bones joke," said Sans. "what, do you only have the one book?"

You closed your eyes, leaned your head back against the door. If you let yourself imagine, you could see yourself on the other side; soaking in Papyrus's easy affection, Sans's terrible jokes. But if you left here you could never come back, not without another reset. How many would it take, you wondered, before you would find out why you couldn't go on? How many more lives where Toriel wouldn't brighten at your smile, wouldn't know all the evenings you'd shared over snail trivia and pie? Even this time, it felt - it felt like you were just biding time. "Yeah."

"well, have i got a skele-ton of jokes for you," Sans said, and you huffed a breath, half a laugh, and let his voice wash over you as you wrapped your arms around yourself and wished you didn't have to go.

Toriel didn't catch you down there for ages. You'd worked through her joke book and snuck a peek at some of her own creations in the notebook beside her bed for good measure, because it gave you some sort of reprieve from the life you were living: sheltered, cloistered. You loved her so much your chest ached but sometimes something made your skin itch until you'd drag your nails across your arms until red welts rose up on your skin, something in you growing resentment at the easy, calm peace between you. Sometimes you ached to swing out; your toy knife or even your fists, knuckles worn to bleeding against the dummy outside your house, just to make her mad - but no. You clenched your teeth, swallowed the urge down, but more and more you couldn't stop your hands from shaking until you sat by yourself in the cold dark hallway, only an occasional voice for company.

So you were surprised when she did catch you, surprised except for the sudden vicious satisfaction at the disquiet that crossed her face, shadowed by her crystal-light. "Child," she said, and you forced your hands into your pockets, clenched your fists to stop them reaching. For what, you didn't know. "Why are you down here? You should be in bed. Come - "

You shook your head, voice sticking in your throat, and she looked at you for a second like you were a ghost.

"C - Child," she said, again. Her open arms were welcoming, but her eyes were afraid. "Please, come away from there, it's locked. It can't be opened. You... you have a home here."

You stared up at her. "I need to go," you said, quiet. "Please."

"The monster world," she said, reaching and desperate, "it isn't safe. Asgore will - "

"You need to let me go," you whispered; your fists clenched tight. "I'm not - I'm not them, I'm not - " but the name wouldn't even come. _I'm not Chara_ , you wanted to say, but - maybe you had been living this life too long. Toriel's expression shuttered, her hands coming up, and you said, as firm as you could, "My name is Frisk."

It almost felt like the truth.

Toriel's gathering magic, a prickle against your skin, faded out. She looked at you as though she were lost, her paws almost involuntarily starting to reach out before they fell to her sides, and she breathed out, "Oh."

"Please," you repeated, "let me go."

Slowly, she stepped forward. "Child," she said, and corrected, "Frisk," at a glance at your expression. "Once you leave, you can't come back."

"Yes," you said, and she closed her eyes and the magic around the door flared, died away. You couldn't bear to see her standing there, her head falling into her paws, the soft choked sound of her breaths and you whispered, "I'm sorry," when you walked away.

 

It was with a terrible sense of loss that you stood on the other side of the door as it closed shut behind you. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, started trying to say it, over and over, as you turned toward the rest of your future ahead. _I'm not Chara, I'm not, I'm not -_

It felt like a lie. It felt like when you were sure Flowey was watching you but hung back, unsure or unpleasantly reminded; by Chara's shirt hanging off your shoulders or Chara's stolen life lingering over you like a cloud. It felt like snow settling on your head, flakes of it almost like dust.

But you hadn't - you hadn't. You stopped, mid-step. There were eyes on you again, an odd feeling on the back of your neck, and you looked around, in front, behind; no one was there. You hissed a breath through your teeth. No one was there - 

"hey."

You startled, jumped, a breath away from a bad reflex: your fingers tightening around the hilt of your toy knife. You stepped back just a little and stared at Sans with wide eyes.

"ah," he said, his grin looking slightly sheepish, "i. uh. almost scared you right out of your skin, didn't i?"

You nodded, emphatically, and he winked. 

"wouldn't want to turn you into a pile of bones just yet."

The laugh you let out was muffled, slightly choked. "I wouldn't want to die from something so... un- _humerus_ ," you said.

"isn't that my punch line?" Sans gave you a pointed look that made you bite back your smile, feeling a little more settled in your skin as you both started to trek toward Snowdin. Papyrus's so-called gate was as easy to get through as ever, but you noticed that for once Sans was slightly shorter than you, if only by half a head. You wondered how tall you'd be compared to Papyrus now, wondered how tall you'd ever get, and almost missed the odd, examining glances Sans gave you as he ambled by your side. You looked at him curiously and his expression didn't change at all, perpetual grin still in place. "hey, i told you about my brother papyrus, right?"

You nodded, and Sans gestured toward the road. "he'd, uh, be pretty happy if he could see a human. capture one, maybe." The odd glint in his eyes was more assessing than friendly for a moment, and you had to look away. "well. you know."

"Yeah," you managed.

"oh," said Sans, sounding completely unsurprised, "and here he comes." He looked at you, at the conveniently-shaped, slightly too short lamp right next to the path, and back. "maybe if you lean down a bit...?"

You looked at the lamp, then back at Sans. "maybe not," he said. "i didn't think this one through."

It was too late, anyway; Papyrus was striding closer, clearly visible. "SANS," he called out, clearly working up steam, but once he spotted you he seemed to falter. "UH. SANS."

You laughed into your sleeve; Sans looked amused. "yep. it's a human, bro."

"SANS," Papyrus said, clearly trying for a stage whisper and failing, "YOU BROUGHT ME A HUMAN?!"

You offered Papyrus a wave and his eyes practically sparkled. When you were with them, you realised, your head felt clearer, your enjoyment more genuine. You took your time through the puzzles though you knew the solutions, trying not to smile at the way Papyrus nearly vibrated with enthusiasm at you solving it. It chased away the cold of the snow, the strange aching loneliness that had sunk into anger and resentment, and you almost felt like yourself again by the time you reached Snowdin Town.

But there, as soon as you walked into town, the monsters stared. Someone murmured, "It's them - " just in your earshot and you felt the cold seeping in all over again. You shoved your hands in your pockets and ducked your head, but it wasn't that, you knew. It was Chara's clothes, Chara's hair, Chara's humanity. The whispers followed you through the town; in the shop, in the library, on the street. "Didn't they die? - the King -"

You looked away and walked faster. Next they'd talk about Asriel, and then you knew you'd want to - no. "My name is Frisk," you whispered to yourself, and you almost believed it.

"frisk, huh?" said Sans. You weren't even surprised to see him when you looked up, though he hadn't been anywhere near you before. He looked at you thoughtfully. "hey. papyrus is driving me out of my skull with spaghetti. let's go to grillby's."

"Now?" you asked.

"why not," Sans said, but his gaze had sharpened. "don't have the stomach for it?"

You looked ahead. There was where you'd have the chance to fight Papyrus again, you knew - the first time you'd simply been captured again and again until he gave up, but now even the reassuring reminder of things going the same might help you regain some balance. "I," you started, and then you faltered, shook your head. "Yeah. Okay."

"good. come on, i know a shortcut."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, life caught up with me! Have some skelebros to make up for it ♥

Maybe it was being with Sans that did the trick, the way he could make people's eyes slide right over him, but you weren't even noticed as you stepped into Grillby's. The stools Sans led you to were the usual at the front of the bar, but when you glanced around there weren't any eyes on you at all. The tension in your hunched shoulders began to unwind, and you consciously tried to relax: you were safe enough here.

"burger?" asked Sans, and you nodded, looked down at your hands. He let you sit there in silence for a while as you waited for your plates to come out, your own worries too clogged and mixed up to say out loud, though whenever you glanced up his gaze was nearly unnerving. When you had your food, you picked at it listlessly, knowing you should eat but not feeling ready. You swallowed around the lump in your throat and opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Sans did the work for you. "so. frisk," he said, "what's this deal with chara?"

It nearly - almost - made you startle; you wanted to punch him in the face, put a knife right through - wait. No. You - you wanted - you shook your head, managed a twist of your mouth. "You know - about them, right? Chara, and Asriel?" The names felt like a frog in your throat.

"the royal brats, right?" Sans eyed you. "the king and queen's child and the first fallen human."

"I... maybe it's Toriel's clothes - " but you knew that wasn't all it was. You knew there was something more than that, linking you and Chara, linking both of you to Asriel and this world. But when you tried to think about it everything in your head ached and went strange, your thoughts mixed up in a jumble, and so you tried to go in a different direction. This couldn't fix everything, but you wanted it so badly your teeth ached. "It's. I need to know how to give someone a soul." 

"dangerous territory, for a human," he said. "you know how it's done, don't you?"

"If a human gives up their soul," you said, "but they did that before, it was both of them who did it - when Alphys brought him back it just wasn't there anymore - " and you clamped your mouth shut at all the things you probably shouldn't know. "Uh. I mean."

"messy," Sans said. His expression was blank, unreadable. "sounds like you've got a bone to pick with her."

"I... guess so," you said. You looked at him and he heaved a sigh, shrugged his shoulders.

"all that stuff - souls," said Sans, "determination, it goes straight through my skull. don't ask me."

"Then why," you said, and his perpetual grin widened a notch.

"just checking. hey, you need a place to stay, huh? papyrus'll be excited to make extra spaghetti."

You couldn't help the face you pulled, remembering the last time you'd tried some; the frozen hunk of it near the unplugged microwave, or the bite from the plate in the fridge after everyone had gone. Sans winked at your expression, pushing over his plate. "no? better eat up, then. don't want to be skin and bones."

 

Papyrus was excited, even though you waved away his offer of food - "YOU'RE SAVING IT FOR ME? HOW CONSIDERATE," he said, a delighted gleam in his eyes, and you couldn't help your smile as you nodded. "OF COURSE YOU CAN STAY. BUT - SANS! YOUR SOCK IS STILL HERE!"

Sans didn't even look up from the crossword he was absorbed in. "hm? what's that?"

Papyrus made a disgusted noise and you quickly said, "It's okay."

"IT'S OKAY? IT'S NOT OKAY," Papyrus grumbled, but he seemed mollified when you managed to switch on their television set to Mettaton's show. You made a bit of a face at it as Papyrus perched on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, but settled down next to him to the sound of Mettaton mixing ingredients, his robotic voice almost soothing as you yawned. When you glanced back toward the kitchen for Sans, he was gone, but there were enough rattling noises from upstairs that you knew he was still around. The last time you were here seemed a lifetime ago - was a lifetime ago, you thought, but you didn't want this house to be empty and abandoned again.

"Hey," you said, a little quietly. Papyrus's attention shifted almost immediately, and it made you feel self-conscious, ducking your head to stare at your hands. "Um. Do you - do you want to go to the surface?"

"THE SURFACE?" Papyrus asked, and seemed to give it due consideration. "THAT'S WHERE YOUR HOME IS, RIGHT?" He paused, clearly waiting for an answer, but you shrugged and he seemed to falter. "I SUPPOSE IT WOULD BE A NICE PLACE TO VISIT," he said, after a moment. "I'VE HEARD GREAT THINGS ABOUT - WHAT WAS IT - THE SUN?"

"Yeah," you said. You remembered the feel of it, the warmth on your skin and the great gaping blue sky above. "It's something. But, I meant - would you stay there?"

Something seemed to flicker over Papyrus's expression; it was something in his eyes, you thought, that flash of blue. "HUMAN," he said seriously, "I AM CERTAIN THAT ABOVE-GROUND IS A GRAND AND EXCITING PLACE! BUT MY HOME IS HERE. AND," he added, a determined spark in his expression, "HOW WILL I BECOME A ROYAL GUARDSMAN IF I LEAVE?"

The smile creeping across your face was unconscious, unbidden, and you felt just a bit like throwing your arms around him; after a moment of consideration, you actually did. Papyrus froze for a moment as you pressed your cheek against the trailing edge of his scarf, but it wasn't long before he lifted an arm and patted you, very carefully, on the head. It was strangely soothing, like something Toriel used to do, though she hadn't - but it made you feel a little better as you composed yourself. "Thanks," you said, very quietly, muffled into fabric and metal, and he made an odd sound, something you couldn't interpret as you pulled yourself away.

"HUMAN," he said, decisively, "I'VE DECIDED. WE'RE FRIENDS NOW." When you glanced up at him he looked utterly earnest, and you ducked your head to hide your smile.

"Frisk," you said, "my name. It's Frisk."

 

But despite the warmth of their home, filled with jokes and laughter and noise, you knew you had to go on. Sans, at least, had given you a direction; he gave you pointed looks when you stared off into the direction of the snow and Waterfall and what was to come. Papyrus, meanwhile, had taken it upon himself to tell you all about Undyne: "WHAT GREAT FRIENDS YOU'LL BE," he said, eyes sparkling, and you thought about her taking it as a challenge, but how afterward you would still sometimes flinch at her spear.

"I should go," you said one day, standing next to Sans by the river and watching the water flow past, but you still had lingering doubts. Were you determined enough? Sometimes you felt like you'd lost it piece by piece along the way, like a rock worn smooth by a stream. You still wanted to go: to try and help Asriel, to finally go home as much as you could, and you tried to find the self you'd left at the start of your journey, lonely and tired and so, so determined - 

\- _but that's not the only way_ \- 

You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, and knew you had to move on. When Sans looked at you again you felt the toy knife like it was burning a hole in your pocket, guilt or something better - worse - making you look away. "frisk," he said, and you swallowed. "hey. stay yourself, alright?"

You took a half-step back, eyes wide, and Sans laughed. "hey. i'm just ribbing ya. don't die on us, papyrus'll cry."

"I'll - try not to?" you said, hesitant. "I..." But you couldn't get the words out, not even sure what you wanted to say.

Sans just shrugged at your expression, his hands in his pockets, and you could feel his gaze on your back when you eventually walked away.

 

There was no Papyrus to stop you here this time, and it made the trek to Waterfall quiet and cold. You stopped in your tracks when there was an odd rustle to the ground ahead - another Ice Cap, you thought, and prepared yourself for dodging - but instead a familiar yellow flower surfaced, his expression already that fake, terrible smile. You stopped, and he looked at you and laughed.

"Where's your determination now?" he sneered, and you thought, _Asriel, Asriel, Asriel -_

"It's not going to make a difference," Asriel said, "it's not going to change a thing. This world is a monster-eat-monster sort of place, and you won't get anywhere without pulling out your knife."

"That's not true," you said, quiet. Your voice shook. "It's not - "

"Oh?" he said. "Come on, Chara, you know better than that."

You remembered: _Come on, Asriel, it's not like it hurts -_ and then you shook your head, your shoulders hunched and small. "I'm not - I'm not - "

Asriel laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and it followed you like an echo after he was gone, wandering down the silent paths of Waterfall, like you'd turn your head and he'd still be there: laughing, judging, _right_.

You were determined enough. You kept going.


End file.
